still more?

More flowers to snip, more bugs having a July field day, more storms on the way, more work to do.

But, too, we have come to a point where moderation is called for. Take the job of deadheading lilies: I snipped off 886 spent flowers today. I'm pretty sure that's an all time record. I took a long time to get through all the fields and of course, those spent flowers are a gloppy, sticky mess. I've been dumping them in the old orchard because Ed tells me that the compost pile isn't the best place for them. He tries to mow down and shred all our organic matter (mostly weeds) before adding it to the compost heap and you cannot shred wet lily heads. Halfway through my lily snipping I wondered -- when will I have time to do this next week when I have a house guest who wakes as early as I do? And my next thought -- I wont be very upset if the numbers start moderating.

The bugs came under temporary control today as we bought ourselves a brief reprieve by allowing for another spraying of the "natural" (whatever that means) stuff. It never lasts more than a couple of days, but it will allow me to work outside tomorrow without bugs biting me all over my face (their latest favorite territory). 

Moderation: I'm also noticing that my weed control at this point is not so perfect. I'm letting some of the stuff remain in the flower fields. Sure, I can blame the bugs, but realistically -- I just haven't the time for it all. Right now the garden's appearance is of paramount importance and that's where I put in the most work. What grows at the base of the fields? Well, I go after some of it, but not nearly with the dedication I had just a few weeks back, when that's all that I had to do.

Given that these days are most definitely lily days, let me post some photos of their beautiful faces -- alone, in groups, with other flowers. They're all magnificent!

Breakfast? On the porch. Of course.

And just before noon, I head out to pick up the big two from their Shakespeare program for lunch and play at the farmhouse.

Because it has been a while since they've spent their afternoon here, everything seems fresh and satisfying. Toys, games, books, foods -- all wonderful. Kids... it's so easy for them to find pleasure in very ordinary moments.  

The evening is stormy and wet. I hope it all passes quickly enough. We don't need more weeds, bugs,  or rainy days. But of course, our storms are small stuff compared to those that do very real damage. And I have to admit it -- all those drizzles and downours really did give the lilies a stellar season of blooms. Shall we slow down now? Just an idea...

with so much love... 

lily heaven

I never know which day is the peak of the year's lily bloom until the day has passed and I do the count of spent lilies the next morning. I'm wondering if it was, in fact, yesterday, because this morning I snipped 763 faded lily heads. That would be on the early side of July. Last year's peak was on July 18th and the count (the next day) was 707. Ocean does not lie! 

It was a very buggy garden cleaning session. I was in the fields at 6:30 (again, good light, but horrible mosquitoes!) because I had an early breakfast date with my New Mexico friend (the last such date -- the era of frequent Barbara visits comes to an end for me, as her mom no longer needs her here). I wanted to be done with garden work before taking the morning off. Again, to my delight, the sun was gentle, and I want to believe that the lilies were grateful for my efforts.

Here's one day-lily plant before I snipped off spent flower heads:

Here's the cleaned up version:

As for the bugs -- well, I'm getting tougher. I do use a strong spray on my clothes and then I just suck it up and plunge into their la la land. I'm not going to not clean the beds and so I have to put up with it. Yes, I mind the buzzing and biting and I especially hate it when they get in my ear, eye or mouth (I count out loud to not lose track -- a dangerous game in a buggy field!). But I try to ignore all that and find pleasure in the utter beauty of an early morning garden. 

Photos from this morning:

(the "secret path" weaves through this field...)

And then I zip over downtown and meet my friend at Wonderstate Cafe on the square.

What she has had to do (with the help of her sister and daughter) should be a fair warning to all of you senior types -- the three of them (and sometimes with the added help of others) have had to go through the parents' stuff and get rid of most of it and allocate the rest. And here's the thing: if you find it tough to get rid of stuff which has generational sentimental value, believe me, it is even harder for the kids of newly deceased parents to get rid of that stuff. They're running on memories and their sentimental quotient is at an all time high. (Mine wasn't -- but that's another story.) Why do we keep so much stuff? I told my friend that my own reasoning as to clothes I haven't worn for years is not "do I really need this" but "might I ever wear it again." The answer to the first is no, the answer to the second is always going to be yes. You never know when I may need to dress up and attend a wedding or a funeral, right?? 

Having little sentimental attachment to things, I'm making it easy for my kids down the line. But I could do better. I swear, I will do better! I am motivated! 

After our morning breakfast, my friend and I took a walk to the weekday farmers market off the square. That was splendid! The bouquets of flowers were lovely, in my favorite pastel combination!

And they had the season's first corn. Fabulous!

And there was one more stop for us -- in the flowered patio of the senior living complex where her parents once lived. I'd been talking about this to my friends, to Ed, to my daughters to some extent. The question is -- will I ever end up in a place like that? And of course the answer is -- who the hell knows what disabilities will plague us in another handful of years? It's not precluded! And with that in mind, I put myself (and possibly Ed) on the wait list. (There is a long line of people waiting to get in.) Because I am fully aware that today I can still dig up the entire farmette garden, but tomorrow, I may not be able to.

 

And again I have a day of two B's: in the afternoon I am on a Zoom call with my Warsaw Bee, reviewing plans for my summer visit to Poland. I'm not there until mid August, but stuff needs to be done in advance. Time to get that project rolling.

 

In the evening, Ed is to do his bike ride, and I take out my bicycle as well, except that his ride is two hours and hilly, and mine is twenty minutes and not hilly.  We've had quite different days -- his mainly on the couch, mine mainly off the couch. But when I return, I find him in the kitchen. I forgot my water -- he tells me and so here we are, on the couch, together, eating leftover pizza and fresh corn, reflecting about the flowers outside, the animals -- both wild and tame -- that call the farmette home.

If ever there was a happy place...

with love... 

lily rama

They are hitting their big moment, their peak, the height of their majesty. I snipped off 589 spent lilies this morning, but of course that was yesterday's flower display. Today's is even more abundant. I expect I'll need two hours tomorrow to work my way through the fields. Will there be mosquitoes? In abundance. Will they deter me? No they will not. Lilies want admiration and they need help in putting their best face forward. I will give them that help.

This morning, I was in the fields by 6:30. I just barely finished by 8. I'll say this much about my early start: the light is so much gentler then. The flowers, too, are freshly opened. Vibrant, but gentle at the same time. You're probably skeptical. A lily is a lily. Except, for me, it is not. And photos are so important here! How else do I make peace with the fact that their beauty is so fleeting? Here you go then, my lilies and their bed-mates, on July 8th:

I was especially happy to see the beds at their finest today because my two friends who periodically share breakfast and actually a whole morning with me, are scheduled to come over today. For once, the flowers have an audience!

We sit out on the porch. It's just barely tolerable -- a bit warm, a bit muggy, but I put on the fan and we linger at the table for a good many hours. A privilege and a pleasure to spend a morning with these two!

And in the afternoon I go for a walk with my daughter. How is that for an unusual activity! We meet up at Owen Woods -- a nature conservancy area in Madison. It has a forest, it has a prairie, and it has paths. Enough to allow us to walk and catch up on details of the young family's week away. 

To me, this constitutes a busy day. So much so that I announce to Ed that I have little interest in making dinner. I pick up a couple of pizzas for us  -- a rare treat!

One last glance outside: at the phloxes, the gaura, the allium. And the lilies.

 

 

 with love...

 

too soft?

Age brings with it all these interesting new considerations: infirmities of the body, perhaps infirmities of the mind, but also maybe wisdom, and greater freedom (for many, but not all), perhaps tighter pocketbooks, but a decreasing need to buy more stuff. These are all known to us events and statuses. You just have to wait and see which package of goodies will be yours.

I've been wondering if age is also making me soft. I'll work damn hard outside -- but only at tasks that bring me some degree of pleasure or at least satisfaction. I'll travel tons -- to destinations that are safe and often known to me. I try out few new recipes, and if I do, they will be easy peasy. I can go on like this: examples of toning down exertion, experimentation, adventure. 

And here's one from today: Ed asks -- want to throw the bikes and kayaks into the truck and go down the river? This is something we've done many times. We take the bikes to a takeout point and leave them there. We drive over to the put in point and unload the kayaks. We leave the truck, paddle to our bikes -- some two hours away -- then leave our kayaks, bike over to the truck, come back for the kayaks and go home. There's a pretty stretch of river, flowing into Lake Kegonsa, and the weather is lovely. Ed is all up for it. Me? It feels like such a bother.

Can't we do just one or the other? Bike, or kayak on the lake? I know he'll say nahhhh, and he does. Lake paddling is boring and biking -- well, he does his weekly ride without me. No need to go on a mini ride now. 

Normally, I would just go for it. I never regret these combination rides and paddles. And there is such a limited number of activities that are suitable for him and for me. And yet today, I say -- it's too much. Think of something else. 

Maybe it's age. Maybe it's the mosquitoes. They really wear me down. This morning, I snipped a good 450+ spent lilies, fighting bugs all the way. You have to really twist my arm to go out again. The great outdoors feels hostile and the inner sanctum of the farmhouse feels grand. 

Of course, the garden is getting awfully close to its peak. I should have taken photos earlier, before the sun hit some of the beds, but I'm rather methodical in my lily work, paying little attention to light or even weather. I snip and move on to the next one. Snip and move on. So, you get a bright morning garden today with colors that are not subtle! But the fields are cleaned up and ready for their day of blooms.

(this bed was tough to establish: it sits on top of what was once a gravel driveway; the rains really helped it along this year!)

(better luck sitting in this flower!)

(The sun is out! My camera recoils at the brightness of these girls!)

(I will feed you after I am done here!)

(So satisfying to see the roadside bed well cared for again...)

(Big Bed: view 1)

(Lilies on all sides of the courtyard)

(Big Bed: view 2)

(upon closer examination...)

Breakfast, with Ed and Dance, on the porch is very late.

This is actually amusing since I have an early lunch date with my New Mexico friend again. That's okay, we both choose breakfast foods for lunch, so you could view it as one extended morning meal. Bravely, we eat outside. They tell us the bugs arrive here, at Lakeside Cafe, in the afternoon.

 

 

I am really surprised at how suddenly, I'm all on board with Rosie the moped. I hop on her almost automatically as I head out to meet my friend. It is, in fact, my fourth ride in just one week. Indeed, I rode her dry today and had to refill her commodious (ha ha) gas tank. Though maybe I shouldn't be surprised. Yes, it's summer, yes, she is fun to ride on rural roads...

 

 

But maybe, too, it's a sign that even my electrical bike is sometimes just too much effort! Riding Rosie has the fun without the work. And so once again I have to ask myself -- am I getting to be too soft?

I go out for an evening bike ride. Okay, it's not impressive. Short and with an electrical boost. Soft, but not a total Squishmallow.   

with love...

 

a wet one

It was a brutal hour of bugs and rain. Cursing under my breath (and sometimes not under my breath), I wondered how I could continue to love my flowers and care for them in such an inhospitable environment. The rains have sprouted a new set of weeds, too. I should be pulling out those today, but I can barely get through the lily snipping (385 today). The mosquitoes are at their worst.

I had purchased a non-DEET bug spray with rave reviews. "We live in a place full of mosquitoes and this spray offered total protection!" -- those kinds of accolades. I don't know what mosquito world they live in, but it's not ours. Our bugs buzzed around me as if I came with an invitation to attack and conquer. Long pants and a sweatshirt (despite the muggy air and occasional drizzle) gave them a tougher path to reach me, but reach me they did. After all, there were always my face,  my fingers, my ankles. Long socks next time. (I hate using netting over my head. May as well put prison bars between me and my flowers.)

I did take some flower photos. I suffered for it, but beauty always survives at times of pain.  I can't say they are original or well crafted but I like them anyway!

(reminds me of little girls in ballet tutus)

(froggie, I don't want to put pressure on you, but please, start hunting down those damn bugs!)

 

(a great big beautiful smile!)

(hey, no frowns allowed!)

 

 

(we always use the back door: a brick path leads to it) 

 

 

 (to one side of the brick path)

 

 

(to the other side: my first lily field, which isn't just about lilies anymore) 

 

 

(the Big Bed: some day I'll measure it's length) 

 

 

(the plantings viewed from the porch are important: they get the most attention) 

 

And by 9 am, I'm done with all morning chores and am on the Capitol Square, meeting my friend who is in town once again. This visit of hers is memorable because it's one of her last. With deaths in her family closing some doors and opening others, her trips here will be limited. Basically I will have to travel more to see my friends, because some will never come (you know who you are!), and the rest will come maybe once a year. Not nearly enough for me, especially when we are all in our 70s.  

For now, I listen to details of her life and throw in a few of my own over our usual coffee at Wonderstate.

At home again, Ed asks if I want to go for a walk, but my head is still buzzing from the sound of early morning mosquitoes. I cannot venture out into bug-o-rama territory. But he persists: we can turn back if it's really buggy. I hesitate. You can ride Rosie over to the park. The rain has stopped, the clouds are moving to bother someone elsewhere... Fine, let's go. 

It is a little buggy and we almost turn back. But at the second we decide to turn around, the wind picks up -- just enough to allow us to go forward after all. And the fields of prairie stretch before us and it is in fact very beautiful!

The thing is, I've missed our walks. They're quiet. They're strengthening. They're perfect.

And of course, taking Rosie out on a summer evening is awesome.

 And speaking of rosy, but with a "y," how about these babes back home? Yes, it is lily season here at the farmette!

 

 

 with love....